McGee's Mistake
by AthenaMay24
Summary: McGee tries to do something nice for Abby, but it backfires. It seriously backfires. This deals with stereotypes about the South and why Abby doesn't really act like she's from the South. McAbby. It takes place after Rules, Rules, Rules, but isn't a direct sequel. You don't have to read that to read this. I own nothing.


**A/N Hey, y'all! I wrote this because I noticed that, even though Abby is from the south, she doesn't sound or act like it most of the time. Has anyone else noticed this? Anyway, so then I started thinking about Southern stereotypes and stuff, so this kinda came out of it. I want to thank all my friends for their help (and, strangely my piano teacher) and especially starrynightshade and lilAzIaNpride24 for their insider (as in from the north) input. **

**I also don't want to offend anyone about anything, whether they're from the north or the south. That's not my intention. **** Please review!**

"Yeah, I miss you too, Uncle Larry," Abby sighed into the phone. She paused, unconsciously nodding. "No, I won't be coming to New Orleans for a while I— Yes, Uncle Larry, I know that it has been a year and a half. No, I'm not a Yankee. Okay, bye now," Abby hung up and slowly lowered the phone, unaware that McGee had been watching her the entire time.

"Hey Abbs, Gibbs sent me down to help," McGee said, coming fully in the door of the lab and pretending not to have heard her phone conversation. "You okay?"

"Yep. That was my Uncle Larry back home," Abby gestured to the phone and smiled, but it looked forced to McGee.

"Back home? Isn't DC your home?" McGee asked carefully, moving to help her with the evidence without being asked.

"It's a southern thing, Tim. No matter where you live, 'back home' is always where you were born," Abby shook off her last little bit of nostalgia and returned her focus to the case.

~o0o~

McGee spent a long time thinking about Abby's phone call with her relatives. Was she homesick for New Orleans and the south? Her birthday was coming up, so maybe he could do something special to remind her of home and forgo the usual black roses. He'd have to step it up this birthday anyway, it being her first since they began dating again. What were southern things? Grits, trucks and boots?

~o0o~

The day before Abby's birthday, McGee managed to convince her to go to the animal shelter by herself so he would have time to set up. She pouted a bit about him not joining in on their Saturday ritual, but reminding her about the puppies did the trick to get her out the door. All soon as she was out the door, he called in the Calvary.

"Are you sure Abby likes this stuff?" Ziva asked after they finished setting up.

"Yeah," McGee said, but to Ziva it looked like he was trying to convince himself. Ziva and Tony shared a glance, but Tony shrugged as if to say 'it's his funeral.'

~o0o~

Abby got back to the small house she shared with McGee, trying to figure out a way to convince him that they should adopt a puppy to keep Jethro company. She opened the door and—wait—was that Taylor Swift? "Timmy?" she called carefully, "What's going on?"

"Surprise!" Abby heard McGee's voice over the slightly less enthusiastic Ziva and Tony.

The lights flipped on and everything hit Abby at once. Someone had put up kiddy farm decorations in their living room. And, as Abby slowly turned and took in McGee, Tony, and Ziva's ridiculous outfits, the music changed to a lively banjo tune. Tony was the most dressed up, in a pair of overalls over a white t-shirt. Ziva actually looked cute, in a gingham button up with tied shirt-tails over cutoff jean shorts and boots. McGee had obviously told them to dress 'southern' and they had very different ideas of it. McGee himself was wearing just some jeans and a t-shirt.

"_Timmy_," Abby struggled to keep her tone pleasant "What is this?"

"You're birthday party," McGee said, not quite catching on to Abby's anger. Tony and Ziva did, however, but Tony just thought it funny.

"What's the theme, Funny Farm?" Abby snapped. She knew exactly what McGee was trying to do and if it hadn't made her mad right off the bat, she probably would have thought it sweet, albeit misguided. But he was kind of hitting a sore spot for her.

"No, this is your Southern Party," McGee said, a bit more nervously this time.

"Does it remind y'all of home?" Tony broke in with a fake southern drawl.

"_No_, Tony, it does not!" Abby snapped, "And 'y'all' is plural _not_ singular!"

"Hold on, wait til you see the food," McGee said, leading her over to the kitchen.

Abby approached the spread. "What is this?" she asked, gesturing to a plate of battered lumps.

"Fried tomatoes," McGee said. Ziva and Tony trailed them into the kitchen.

"McGee cooked them himself," Ziva added.

"What did you do, fry a red tomato from the grocery store?" Abby asked, examining the dish in question further.

"Yes . . ." McGee was hesitant now.

"_McGee_!" McGee could tell that Abby was annoyed because she rarely used his last name anymore. "It's fried _green_ tomatoes! It's in the name!" Abby made a frustrated noise. Then she spied a pot of tea on the stove. "And it's sweet iced tea!"

"Oh," McGee said in a small voice.

"What? Do you think that we're all inbred, illiterate, barefooted, truck driving, trailer living, country music listening, boot wearing, tan, bleach blonde, long-legged southern belles with—with a farm to inherit?" Abby took a deep breath, barely taking in the shocked look on her friend's faces. "Do you think that's who _I _am?" she added softer. "Or who I want to be?" Abby looked at McGee searchingly and stamped out.

"Wait! We were gonna bob for apples later!" Tony called after Abby. Wincing at the door slam, he turned back to McGee, "I told you she wouldn't like it."

"I get it, Tony, I screwed up!" McGee snapped, burying his face in his hand.

"Do not just stand there, McGee, fix it," Ziva said, "We will help."

"How? She thinks I'm some stereotyping southern hater," McGee said into his hands.

"Oh, c'mon Probie, this is Abby we're talking about. She knows you better than that," Tony said, clapping McGee on the back, "And you know her, so like Zi said, why don't you fix this?"

McGee looked up and nodded. "But I need your help," he said to the both of them.

Tony gave him a mock salute, "Lead away, McFarmer-in-the-dale."

~o0o~

Abby, with no specific place in mind when she stormed out, ended up back at the animal shelter. The night guard let her in probably knowing that it would be idiotic to mess with her. Abby headed straight to the crate that held her favorite little puppy. Unbolting the door she pulled the sleepy dog into her lap. The golden retriever, who she'd dubbed Annabelle Lee, barked at her softly and snuggled back to sleep. Abby sat with her back against the shelter wall.

Did Tim really think all those things about the South? Maybe she was overreacting. He was probably trying to do something special for her. But seriously? Has he not been around her long enough to glean a thing or two about where she grew up? Plus, she isn't even all that southern anyway. Doesn't he realize that some of those things were offensive, and she would have been extremely happy for just a dinner with friends?

Abby was torn. On one hand, how could McGee insult her and the South like that? On the other, McGee was probably just trying to do something nice to remind her of home. Home. She should have realized it by now, no matter what she told McGee, her home was with him now.

She made a noise. Now McGee has her even thinking completely cliché.

~o0o~

"Gibbs," Gibbs answered the phone, continuing to sand his boat.

"Hey Boss,"

"McGee?" Gibbs put down his tools. He knew that if McGee was calling him, something went wrong with the surprise party. "I was wondering when you'd call."

McGee groaned, "Why didn't you stop me?"

"There are some things you need to learn for yourself, Tim," Gibbs paused, "Why did you call me?"

"Is Abby with you?" McGee asked nervously. He wasn't sure how misplacing Gibbs's favorite would go over with his boss.

"Nope," Gibbs picked up his sander again. As long as Abby hadn't killed DiNozzo he wasn't too concerned.

"Would you tell me if she was?"

"Not if she didn't want me to."

"Do you know where she'd go?"

"McGee!" Gibbs barked.

"Yes Boss?" McGee's answer was an automatic response to Gibbs's tone, no matter the circumstance.

"You know her better than anyone else. Where would she go?"

"Obviously I don't know her as well as I thought I did or I would never—"

Gibbs cut him off, "You made a mistake. Your intentions were good, and she'll realize that."

McGee sighed, "Thanks anyway, Boss."

"Just fix it, McGee," Gibbs hung up, shaking his head.

~o0o~

McGee had no idea where to look for Abby. Well, maybe that wasn't entirely true. He knew of several, but after checking Gibbs's house, the lab, and her favorite cemetery, he was stumped. He pulled over to the side of the road and forced himself to start from the beginning. What did Abby like? Caf-Pow, hugs, non-contaminated evidence, old people, puppies—"Puppies!" he said out loud. McGee squealed back on the road, headed for the shelter where he volunteers with Abby every Saturday.

It took a little more convincing to get the guard to let him in than it had Abby, but he managed it. "Abbs?" he called into the empty, dark room. He got a bark in response. He knew she was here, so he called again.

"What do you want?" while Abby's response could be construed as terse, her tone was anything but, so McGee knew he was forgiven.

"I was worried about you. And I wanted to apologize for my extreme stupidity," McGee said rounding a corner and finally seeing Abby sitting on the floor holding a puppy. "Hey," he slid down the wall next to her, and the puppy perked up and started sniffing his hand.

"Hi," Abby said, laughing softly at Annabelle's antics. "I'm over it, Timmy."

"I want to make it up to you," McGee nudged her shoulder.

"You don't—"

"C'mon, I think I got it right this time."

Abby looked at him warily, "Can Annabelle come?"

"Who?"

Abby pointed, "I named her Annabelle Lee."

McGee laughed and stood up, "Of course you did." He offered her a hand up, "Are we allowed to do that?"

"I'll leave a note," Abby was back to her bubbly self, "I wanted to talk to you about adopting her anyway."

"Whatever you want," McGee said, and kissed her cheek.

~o0o~

McGee nervously pulled into their driveway. He desperately hoped that Tony and Ziva had followed his instructions (and that his instructions wouldn't offend Abby even more). He led Abby inside, his hand on her back and the puppy in her arms. All the remnants of the previous party were gone, including the food.

Abby looked slightly confused, but McGee wordlessly twined his hand with hers and pulled her to the backyard. As Abby saw what had been done to their yard, McGee's apprehension disappeared.

"Timmy!" she exclaimed, dropping Annabelle gently.

Before McGee went searching for Abby, he'd called her Uncle Larry and did a little digging (okay, so he'd explained the situation, been yelled at, and then he begged and bargained for help, which he'd grudgingly received) and found out that the Scuito family had a New Year's family reunion party every year. Abby hadn't attended in years, but apparently it didn't change much. He'd done his best to recreate it. Or, get Tony and Ziva to while he searched for the guest of honor.

Abby rounded on him, "You talked to Uncle Larry!"

"Uh, yeah. I guess I needed a little help with the Southern thing," McGee said sheepishly.

Abby gave him a kiss, "Did Uncle Larry tear into you too much?"

"Not as badly as you did," McGee admitted.

Abby laughed, "I love it, Tim."

Tony and Ziva (who had mysteriously disappeared) had started a small fire and somehow gotten ahold of a red pick-up truck, now parked in the yard with a cooler in the bed.

"Is it just us?" Abby asked looking around for other people.

"No, we are here," Ziva's voice sounded from around the side of the house. "Do you know how hard it is to get this much crawfish etouffee in Washington DC?" she asked as she came around the corner.

Abby turned to McGee, "You didn't!"

"That's right he didn't! I'm the one who carried all 20 pounds of this stuff," Tony said, also coming into the yard and placing the pot on the table. "You owe me 50 for the food and 20 for the pot, McCreole."

Ziva smacked him lightly, causing him to grunt and Abby to laugh.

"Oh, I almost forgot," McGee said, switching the music on. One of Abby's lab playlists started playing through the yard speakers.

"That doesn't fit the atmosphere," Tony said unrelentingly.

"I threw in a few good old country songs Uncle Larry recommended," McGee turned to Abby, "You were right, that other stuff wasn't you or the south. But the point was to remind you of where you grew up. So how'd I do second go around?"

"Perfect!" Abby hugged her boyfriend, "Now what are we waiting for? I haven't had good etouffee in ages!"

~o0o~

About an hour later, the small party got a visitor.

"Gibbs!" Abby yelled, giving him a hug. "Did you come for the party?"

"Yeah, and to tell McGee that the Director accepted his request," Gibbs said, looking over Abby's shoulder at McGee.

"What?" Abby turned around.

"I know it's only October, but I was wondering if you would be interested in taking a vacation with me to Mardi Gras next year?" McGee asked nervously.

Abby narrowed her eyes, "Mobile or New Orleans?"

"Both," McGee said confidently, "Or either. Gibbs convinced the Director to give us two weeks."

Abby squealed and gave McGee a true bone crushing hug. "Can we visit Uncle Larry?"

"That's the only way I convinced him to tell me all this stuff," McGee kissed her head as she laughed.

"Do you know what whole ordeal reminds me of?" Tony said to no one in particular, "_My Cousin Vinny_. Great movie. Joe Pesci, Ralph Macchio, Marisa Tomei? Takes place in good old Alabama? Anyone? Ow!" Tony flinched as a hand connected with his head.

**A/N Confession time: I really want to write a sequel to this that is the vacation to Mardi Gras, but if I do, it will most probably be Mobile Mardi Gras. I happen to be from Mobile, and very, very familiar with Mardi Gras here. (For those that don't know, Mardi Gras started in Mobile, so there's that.) In my personally prejudiced opinion, Mobile Mardi Gras is way better than New Orleans. But that's just me. Anyway, the point is, is anyone interested in Abby and McGee at Mobile Mardi Gras? Please let me know!**


End file.
